


A Triad of Poems

by Quecksilver_Eyes



Series: We're not meant to be alone [12]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Blood, M/M, Nicky was a crusader so, Poetry, Temporary Character Death, The Crusades, and food, and reaching for the stars, in which there is a lifetime between the touch of a blade and the touch of lips, not explicitly but like, on blood drowned years, on meetings and love, theyre there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:06:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26487640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quecksilver_Eyes/pseuds/Quecksilver_Eyes
Summary: my mother told me, / when I was young; / fruit-smeared / with my hands / spread far above me – / this sky is star-drunk and world-heavy. you cannot reach it. | three poems from various points in Yusuf Al-Kaysani's life
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani & Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani's Mother, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: We're not meant to be alone [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906879
Comments: 18
Kudos: 53





	1. the frank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my mother told me, / when I was young; / fruit-smeared / with my hands / spread far above me – / this sky is star-drunk and world-heavy. you cannot reach it.

my mother told me,  
when I was young;  
fruit-smeared  
with my hands  
spread far above me –

_this sky is star-drunk and world-heavy. you cannot reach it._

my father taught me,  
when I was a boy;  
hungry and full of teeth  
charmed.  
his laughter lodged in his chest –

_here, you can offer this earth and all its stars. you need only keep it at the roof of your mouth._

there’s a frank drowning in my blood  
under the billowing night sky;  
stretched between the cardinal points  
viscous and iron stained.

his sword is in my throat.

_A prayer, please. Say a prayer for me and all this blood. All these stars I have never touched._

I live.  
the frank is all teeth and claws  
and glass sharded eyes;  
iron heavy, heaving thing -  
I die.

he dies.

_how do I measure time, frank, but by the colour of this blood on your hands?_

I live.

there’s a frank; half torn  
with his needle-teeth  
and his skin blistered;  
bruised.

he looks at me.

_what am I doing?  
– a violent thing; unforgiven_

once,  
under an endless starry sky,  
with the blood of a people  
with my death in his teeth,  
a frank asks me my name.

_I know the taste of your blood better than the sound of your tongue._

sand-worn and silverspun,  
my mother looks at me  
and my hands  
my tongue tied to my throat  
and my blade;  
blood drowned still.

she hugs me;  
and the needle pricks on my skin.

_hello, my sweet. where have you been?_

there’s a frank,  
on my doorstep -  
sunburned and cold eyed  
and unarmed;  
unadornded.

I do not ask him inside.

_will you ask for my forgiveness, now?  
– how could I dare? _

nicolo is dripping  
with catholic blood;  
by my side.  
he bares his sharp teeth  
and his blistered skin  
at what the crosses carry into this land.

_How do I stitch these stars into my skies? How do I grab them with unburned hands?_

nicolo kisses me;  
needle teeth and glass eyes  
and softened hands  
– a lifetime after I first tasted his blood.

_the heavens have lowered, mother. I think if I stretched out my hand, I could touch them_


	2. my love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my love is kind and soft

my love is soft and kind  
and deliberate – quiet;  
unfathomable.

my love is gentle and careful  
he was made seething and full of teeth  
and rotting bile.

my love is smiling and sweet  
by choice.


	3. loved.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yusuf's world gathered around food.

In the mornings, after my fajir, when the world holds its breath still, I think of my mother, and a kitchen brimming with laughter. My father would kiss her as she cooked, his lips on her neck, his arms around her, and my sisters would dance; their hands grasped, their giggles all tangled in each other’s hair. The sun has set and none of us have eaten yet. There are five pans on the fire and the world at our feet. I will never replicate the taste of this love in my mouth.

\- _I stand in a kitchen with a stove. the record player is running, and Nicolo kisses my cheek. Nile peers over my shoulder and Andromache grabs a spoon. I sing along to the music, their love on the tip of my tongue._


End file.
